


Good Advice is Meant to be Shared

by Am-Chau (Vacillating)



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Drinking, M/M, Wartime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-18
Updated: 2009-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-04 12:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vacillating/pseuds/Am-Chau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sidney comes to the 4077 for some dinner and a little help taking his own advice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Advice is Meant to be Shared

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sarcasticsra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticsra/gifts).



"Ladies and gentlemen, take my advice, pull down your pants and slide on the ice."

\- Major Sidney Freedman

 

_Starters_

It was quiet when Sidney's truck rolled into the camp; the only sign of the season was the slightly pathetic string of tinsel someone had wrapped around a flagpole.

"Where is everyone?" Sidney asked when he had dismissed his driver and found Radar.

"In bed, sir," Radar answered. "We had hundreds of casualties last night, most of them were in surgery until this morning."

"I see," Sidney nodded.

"Make yourself at home in the officers' mess," Radar suggested. "I think everyone else will join you when they wake up. We're supposed to be having a big dinner tonight."

"The seasonal tradition, right," Sidney agreed. "Thanks, Radar, and happy Christmas."

"You too, sir," Radar said. He turned back to his filing and Sidney went to take a seat in the officer's mess.

 

_Roast Dinner_

Having helped himself from the bar - leaving some cash on the counter in payment - Sidney was well past 'warm' and on his way to 'merry' by the time the other officers began to crawl in, yawning and stretching but seeking company for the family-orientated festival.

Hawkeye greeted him cheerfully, and asked, "Come to shrink one of us?"

Shaking his head, Sidney grinned. "No, no, I was given a couple of days off but couldn't reach Tokyo, so I thought I'd drop by here for some company."

"We had lots of company arrive last night," Hawkeye said. "Have you been waiting long?"

"All morning," Sidney replied, "but it doesn't matter, Radar filled me in on your rush of Christmas Eve visitors."

"All settled with a delicious drip of mulled blood and some very festive bandages," Hawkeye said. "Can I get you a drink?"

Sidney accepted. They drank steadily for a while, chatting about this and that - BJ's desperate attempts to get a present mailed to his wife in time for Christmas, a patient who had reacted badly to the anaesthetic, the dreadful rendition of "Away in a Manger" some nurses were warbling. 

When dinner was served, BJ joined them for a while, but excused himself before the dessert arrived, claiming that if he tried to eat Christmas pudding he'd fall face first into it, asleep.

"He knows they'll have boiled it to a mush, more like," Hawkeye grumbled.

"Speaking of patients who don't take well to things," Sidney said suddenly. "We were, a while ago," he reminded Hawkeye, when all he got was a blank stare.

Hawkeye nodded and sipped his drink. Sidney wasn't sure what the reaction would be to this conversation, but the alcohol in his bloodstream was softly reassuring.

"I had a patient a few days ago," Sidney begins, "who didn't take it too well when I suggested that he might be a bit upset that he'd been shot. That perhaps he thought someone was to blame, that he could reasonably be angry with them."

Hawkeye nods again, the witty mouth silent for a little while.

"He thought I was calling him a coward, or a mummy's boy," Sidney went on. "Then he said perhaps I was calling him a homosexual."

"Was 'mummy's boy' his term?" Hawkeye asked, with the beginning of a smirk.

"It was," Sidney confirmed.

"Paging Doctor Freud," Hawkeye said, but didn't seem inclined to comment further on the point.

"I asked if he thought he was a homosexual - sometimes the chance to deny it will make a man let go of the topic long enough for us to discuss something more useful," Sidney continued. "He asked me why I wanted to know, and in a fit of what I can only call, in a non-professional context, sudden madness, I said it was nice to know who my friends were."

"Ah," Hawkeye exhaled. Sidney was glad to see that despite the drinks, understanding was dawning quickly. Soft and serious, Hawkeye added, "You know you've got a friend here, right?"

Sidney nodded. "I came round for a drink, didn't I?"

"We can slip into something less comfortable and play nurses later," Hawkeye grinned, with just the edge of his normal leer. "Now I want to hear about your patient."

Telling the rest of the story, Sidney noticed that it was bordering on dull, really: the patient was angry but calmed down, denying firmly any homosexual feelings ever at all for anyone, and eventually talked about his mother for a further fifteen minutes until the appointment was over.

"And that was that," Sidney concluded, "I also told him all he needed to do was not get shot again, but in the end I just made a lame joke and left it there."

"It'll be just what he needs if he gets shot in the leg," Hawkeye said. Neither of them laughed.

"It's closing time, ladies and gentlemen," the bartender called. "I know it's Christmas but we all need our sleep."

Hawkeye stood and offered Sidney an arm. "I'd offer to take you to mine and show you some etchings, but I fear that Major Burns have been scorching them all." Sidney raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "He put all my sports magazines on a fire. Especially the ones with the beach volleyball."

"A lifetimes collection, gone like that," Sidney said, shaking his head. "Well, you're welcome to come to my guest tent - free of irritating Majors, myself excepted."

Leaning close, as if by accident, as they ducked out the door, Hawkeye murmured, "Irritating isn't the word I'd use."

Sidney laughed. "Why, doctor, what word do you prefer?"

"I like the sound of mushroom," Hawkeye replied lightly. "And knickerbocker, and especially," he took a deep breath and said it low and slow as if it tasted sweet on his tongue, "perversion."

"I think you'd better come in, then," Sidney said, holding open the door of his tent - thankfully set at a little distance from the others. "I have some of my own advice to take."

 

_Dessert_

"You think you should take your own advice, huh?" Hawkeye grinned. "Well, the last of my ice went in a drink a week or two back, but if you'd like to pull down your pants, we'll see what we can do."


End file.
